


Furiosa Returns

by Winterling42



Series: Flesh and Blood and Dust [33]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 18:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterling42/pseuds/Winterling42
Summary: Furiosa has been alone so long she's not sure how to accept any help.





	Furiosa Returns

The lift docked with a familiar clang, and the accompanying jolt almost knocked Furiosa to the ground. She stayed standing only because people were pressed so close together; Capable held up her back while Toast reached out to take her arm when she wavered. After a moment Furiosa shook them off, her head pounding along with her heartbeat and her vision wavering black. She could not afford to look weak, not right now. She could solidify power now, in front of the Wretched and the War Pups, or she and all the Wives (the Widows, her mind whispered, darkly gleeful) could be tossed back to the Wasteland.

Aurelio was perched on her shoulder, as close as they had ever been while inside the Citadel, but she felt like something was still missing, kept reaching out for the sand-rough edge of a leather jacket, missed his clear eyes watching her back.

Cheedo came close and wrapped her fingers around Furiosa’s human ones, and the Imperator turned to look at her, properly look. The girl smiled, just a little, and the heaviness that came from absence eased in Furiosa’s chest. Aurelio resettled himself on her shoulder, his claws digging into the padding where her metal arm should have been. Furiosa tried to take a breath, almost lost the rest of her vision to an intolerable burst of pain that swallowed her up for a moment, and forced herself forward. Cheedo’s hand was still wrapped in hers, and Capable’s hands were on her back and the Dag, still holding the Keeper’s tough old bag and chewing at the ends of her hair, was standing close enough that their arms brushed. And Toast, Toast the Knowing, stood in front of Furiosa with a pistol in one hand, a big revolver shining with chrome plate. Furiosa recognized it, and seeing as the bruise it had left was vivid and swollen on the girl’s face, she thought it only right that Toast be the one to carry it.

A wave of movement among the Wretched drew Furiosa’s attention away from the Wives. The familiar white chalk of War Boys appeared, and for a moment Furiosa thought that they’d miscalculated, that they would stumble on this final step because the Citadel was _not_ undefended after all…

But it was only the Pups, a few stepping towards her uncertainly, and Furiosa forced her eye to focus. Her breath hissed like fire in her lungs, and the uncontrollable twitching of her bad eye was like being stabbed every time it moved. The lift guards had been stunned into silence, and the Wretched stood as living shields between the Wives and their guns, but it was only a matter of time before they remembered their duty and started killing. Or until someone ordered them to it.

Corpus was gasping out orders to the Pups; get him down, take him away, get him back to his quarters at once! Furiosa stepped towards him, and the Wives stepped with her and the Pups reached out to with awed fingers to touch fine white cloth and fine, whole skin.

“Joe’s dead,” Furiosa said, though the words made her dizzy. She stopped to breathe, and it was so quiet in the cave that she could hear the thunder of the water falling behind them. Or maybe that was just the blood ringing in her ears. “I’m the one that killed him.”

“What do you want?” Corpus asked, fear making his face even uglier than usual. His rat daemon twitched her nose and shivered by his pale and useless hand. Under his question, she heard them whisper _Immortan Furiosa_ , and she flinched.

“To be free,” she said, and it was all she could do to stay standing. “For all of us. Free.”

Aurelio wavered on her shoulder, their balance unsteady, and when she tried to catch him Furiosa felt something in her chest give way. Breathing changed from agony to sheer impossibility, and she could not stop her fall. Aurelio lay on his side beneath her, one wing folded awkwardly under him, gasping in time with his human.

Above them, someone spoke. Furiosa could not understand the words through her darkening haze, but she was grateful for the strength in them. One of the Wives stood at the edge of the Citadel and argued for the renewal of the world, and it was with mingled relief and shame that Furiosa let herself fall into unrestful unconsciousness, knowing that they were no closer to _safe_ or _home_ than they had been before.


End file.
